Just Give Me A Reason
by ChasingRainbows90
Summary: Jac and Jonny are forced together - and as a result to talk. Will she open up to him?
1. You Were A Thief

**This is set around four weeks in the future and is hopefully ok :) It's partly inspired by the P!nk song Just Give Me A Reason**

_If somebody pressed a stethoscope to my chest, I wonder what they would hear. I always used to wonder if I had a heart, if I could feel, if I could love. Now I know that I used to have one. I know that it beat warm and alive inside of me. I know that it felt love and that I knew what I felt like to be loved. I know that my heart beat faster and became more alive in response to a man. _

_Now I'm not sure that you'd hear anything. My heart was stolen. Given up to someone I thought I loved. Given away fearfully but knowingly. I let him take my heart. I let him take my heart and I let him hurt me. _

_I know the structure of the heart perfectly. I've held it in my hand, still but still warm. I've watched it beat in someone's chest and I've watched it stop. I've watched it flicker on a screen. I've seen heartstrings, felt them beneath my fingers. _

_I've felt the tugging at my own. I've felt pain deep within my heart as the knife slips inside. As that same knife twists and tugs, scarring the organ but not quite destroying it. That's my heart. The heart he owns. Scarred, damaged, bleeding but still trying to beat. Still causing me pain. Slowly but surely killing me. Destroying me with each beat, each twist, each tug. _

Jac Naylor closed her eyes for a second and rested her head on her arms. This day felt like it was never going to end. At the start of her shift, the ward had seemed like such a nice place; the patients were, for the most part, stable and doing well. Since then everything seemed to have gone downhill. If she never heard another emergency bell go off it may have been too soon, nor did she think she could cope if yet another of her patients developed some obscure complication that hadn't even seemed like a possibility beforehand. It was like the ward had some sort of conspiracy against her.

Behind her, she could hear Jonny and Mo laughing and joking. She wasn't entirely sure how they could act in such a way when they too were working the shift from hell nor was Jac sure how Jonny could act like life was completely normal when she still felt the pain acutely.

She hated the pain. At least with physical pain, she could take pain killers and the like. The emotional pain was so much harder to deal with. It stole her breath and caused her eyes to burn as she tried to act like the ice queen as people expected. She had to keep up appearance no matter how much it took; no matter that it left her utterly exhausted at the end of each day.

The sound of laughter seemed to be rebounding of every surface, tormenting her. She squeezed her eyes just that little bit tighter in the hopes of blocking it out. She wondered for a second, if he knew how much it was killing her.

She hated herself for feeling this way. She should have been able to bounce back from him. It shouldn't still hurt almost a month after the fact. She shouldn't still hear his words in her head, taunting and tormenting her. Had he realised how much those words had destroyed her? Did he even remember what he'd said? She knew that nothing would remove those words from her head. The idea that she was so inherently evil and corrupt that it could infiltrate even the innocent potential life of her child. A child that would never exist.

Perhaps he was right that was the reason for her condition. To prevent the evil. To prevent a mother unable to love spawning a child unable to feel. But the tug deep within told her something different. Babies liked her. Babies settled in her arms, melted against her, became a part of her. Babies were uncomfortable with her; and she wasn't uncomfortable with them.

She swallowed hard, trying desperately to push these thoughts away. She couldn't let them get to her here. She couldn't afford to let herself break. She'd been trying for so long not to let herself feel. But she was low and tired. Her body and soul bending under the weight of the shadow which had settled over her. It was all becoming too much for her – and he was acting like normal.

He was like a criminal. He'd stolen everything from her, a thief. And now she was the willing victim paying for his crime while he got to live his life as before.

She took a slow deep breath and pushed herself up and walked away from the desk, feeling the unfamiliar prickling of tears behind her eyes. She frowned and slipped in to the supply cupboard where she hoped she'd get a few quiet moments hidden away in the darkness.


	2. I Let You See Parts of Me

**Thank you for any reviews. I love reading them :) I hope this is ok. **

She settled herself at the back of the cupboard, sitting on one of the large sharps boxes. It wasn't the most comfortable but at the very least, it allowed her to have her few moments of quiet. She closed her eyes and leant backwards against the cool metal of one of the stands. How many times had they slipped in here? It had given her a slight thrill the chance of getting caught but now she wanted nothing more than the stay hidden.

At the sound of the door clicking shut her eyes shot open, taking a second to adjust to the low light. Letting out a shuddery breath she saw him stood before her, his body leaning against another of the stands. A slight smile playing on his lips. She tried to steady herself.

"Come to our special place Ms Naylor?" he asked, his voice soft, it almost killed her to have him so close. Over the last few weeks, she'd tried to avoid him as much as possible unable to cope with being in close proximity. Now she felt trapped. She looked down at her hands for a second before turning her gaze back to him.

"I just wanted a moment of peace" she answered, knowing there was no point in lying. He would have known if she did. He was skilled at reading her or at least he had been. He hadn't known she was lying the last time they'd spoken properly. He hadn't noticed that she wasn't telling the truth about having everything.

"In the supply closet?" A hollow laugh escaped his mouth at the idea. The closet wasn't exactly the place for quiet moments of reflection. The supply cupboard was the place of stolen kisses, snatched moments of togetherness and sneaky quickies. If the hospital ever decided to monitor what went on in this room, the tapes would be X-rated.

"Do you have a problem with that?" She raised an eyebrow. He shook his head sadly and gave her a small cheeky smile that she didn't understand. She wished that things were different between them, that this was like old times but she knew that too much had happened between them.

"I guess I'll leave you too it then" He responded, and as if trying to keep up appearances he grabbed a small sharps bin and a lid and went to grab the door handle. As he went to open it, a gasp escaped his lips and a look of confusion passed over his face as he struggled to get the door to open.

"You seriously cannot be that weak nurse Maconie" She said bitterly, as she watched him struggle. He turned to her and she could see that she hit a raw nerve based on the expression on his face. Part of her felt a little bit apologetic for hurting him; but the other part was still replaying his words on a loop in her brain.

"It's stuck, Ms Naylor" He retorted, drawing out her name so that it sounded strange and alien to her ears. Slowly she stood up from her sharps box, and made her way to the door trying to open it herself. When she failed to do so, she sighed grumpily and watched as Jonny, childishly, stuck his tongue out at her. "Well looks like we're stuck here together Ms Naylor"

"Great" Jac muttered, utterly deadpan. She could hear the frantic ringing of bells on the ward and she knew that help wouldn't get to them for some time. Being trapped in such a small space with Jonny was definitely not what she wanted. She settled herself back on to her sharps bin and tried to think of things to distract herself.

She could feel her body reacting to him. Her nose was filled with the warm, familiar scent of him and every fibre of her being wanted to shift closer to him. She willed her body to stop feeling, she just wanted to forget about his presence but nothing seemed to help. She wondered if he was as aware of her, as she was of him. Did being this close to her make him remember?

"How did it come to this?" He whispered in to the stillness, causing her to startle a little. She turned and looked at him, he had slipped down to the floor and was leaning backwards, his face turned towards her. She sighed, wishing she could understand it herself. She hadn't wanted it to end up like this. She'd actually started to let him see the real her. Everything had seemed so good, so real. She hadn't felt like that for such a long time, and then that day outside of theatre.

His words came back to her again. They stung her over and over as they spun around her mind. Taunting her, tormenting her. Her entire body felt empty, barren, hollow. Her breath caught in her throat. She felt tears stinging her eyes. It shouldn't be like this. She knew that. She'd started that week with a set idea of what she wanted and what she needed. By the end of it, her priorities had shifted and despite outwardly having everything, suddenly she had nothing.


	3. That Weren't All That Pretty

**I hope this is alright :) As always I really appreciate reviews. **

"Don't cry" Jonny shifted his position so that he was kneeling in front of Jac. He wiped his finger across her cheek, removing a salty tear. She shuddered a little at his touch. It felt like forever since he'd touched her, and despite the lightness of his touch it felt like it had marked her.

"Don't look at me" she whispered, trying to turn her head away from him but knowing it was pointless. She didn't want him to see her this way. She didn't want him to see her weakness, to know that he was getting to her and gradually breaking her down. She didn't want him to know just how long he'd been breaking down her armour.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of" he whispered in response. Looking at her up close, he could see the pain reflected in her eyes. How long had she had that haunted expression? He was certain it wasn't there the last time he'd found himself looking deep in to her eyes. His heart ached for her. She looked directly in to his eyes, and he saw in them the very depth of her soul.

"You shouldn't see me like this" she stated, softly. Her voice sounded pained and haunted. In her eyes, he could see years of pain and hurt reflected back at him, he could see the pooling of tears left unshed over years of pretending to be strong and the glistening of tears waiting to be shed. He could see so much hurt that he wondered how she wasn't crippled by it.

"Why not Jac?" he asked softly, waiting to be reprimanded for the use of her name. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to block their connection but feeling compelled to open them again. He could tell she was terrified and he knew that him knowing that scared her. He knew that she wanted nothing more than to block him out and hide away, but he couldn't let her. He didn't want to let her go.

"Because" she started, but she was unsure how to continue. She wasn't sure why he shouldn't see her, the real her. She knew she was frightened of letting people in, of people knowing her and loving her. She was frightened of the pain and the hurt that came with it. She was frightened full stop. If she let him in, let him see the ugly side of her, the scars of years gone by, would he still want her? She wasn't so sure. Why would he want someone so irreparably broken, corrupt, dirty?

"Let me in Jac" he whispered, his words barely audible. In front of him, she appeared childlike, a thin fragile waif not the strong confident consultant who dominated the ward. She looked young and frightened. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and to protect her. She shivered slightly and ran a hand through her ponytail.

"I don't know how" she murmured. She could see the love glittering in his eyes, love for her. In his eyes, she could see that he wanted her and not just for what she could give him. She couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever seen that in somebody's face before. But she was scared of that look. Scared because he didn't know the full story; a story which might send him running.

"Just try" He offered, gently running his finger along her cheek, tracing the path that her tears had travelled. She sighed deeply. She desperately wanted it to be as easy as just opening up to him. She wished she could just say the words, but they seemed to catch in her throat. She wished he understood that it was difficult for her.

"Do you remember what you said to me?" she asked, looking at him. She watched as his expression shifted, his mind replaying conversations trying to pinpoint the moment she meant. "Outside of theatre" she prompted, watching his expression darken as his mind settled on their argument.

"I didn't mean anything by it Jac" he responded, remembering the words. It had been the heat of the moment, his anger had flared up and he'd just hit out at the first thing he could. He replayed the moment in his mind, the voices exploding inside his head. And then he saw it, the moment her eyes changed.

"At the time you did" she whispered. She wondered for a moment what it would have been like if that moment hadn't happened. Would she have opened up to him before now? She allowed her mind to travel even further backwards. What would have happened all those months ago if the test had been positive – her belly would be rounded now the skin stretched taunt with their child. Her belly would be crisscrossed by red marks signalling their child's growth and her body's accommodation of that. And they'd sit together, hands placed to that rounded mound, feeling the kicks and punches of the little life that grew within. The antichrist child. A cry built up in the throat and she tried to push it down.

"It was the heat of the moment" he mumbled. She looked up at him, and he was almost overcome by the pain that was looking back at him. He couldn't believe that he had done this too her, that his words had had such an effect on her. Things could have been so different, if he'd kept control but he'd only been trying to protect himself. She'd tried to hurt him, and he'd hurt her in response. They'd played a game and she'd lost. They'd both lost.

"You thought I had everything" She whispered. She didn't know how much of him had believed that was true. Tears blistered her eyes. "Instead I lost everything" she swallowed hard, trying to forget, trying to force her emotions down. She forced her hand in to a fist squeezing it tightly shut. She winced, suddenly acutely aware of the pain throbbing in her abdomen. It had arrived out of nowhere, and she gasped, whimpering. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut forcing the tears free. She wondered for a second, if emotional pain could evoke physical pain.


	4. Just Give Me A Reason

**As usually reviews make me very happy :) and thank you to anybody who is actually reading this. **

She pressed a hand to her abdomen, trying to push the pain away. With the other she searched her pocket, for her packet of painkillers. She bit down hard on her lip and withdrew it slowly. With shaking fingers she tried to feel for a tablet, but she felt her stomach drop when she realised that the packet was empty. As the cramp passed, she breathed a slight sigh of relief, opening her eyes. She looked in to Jonny's concerned face.

"Jac?" He whispered, taking hold of the hand containing the empty sheet of painkillers. He squeezed it gently. She breathed deeply trying to gain a hold of herself. Slowly she pushed herself up from the sharps box, her body stiff from sitting on the low box. She stretched out slightly causing him to drop her hand. She walked a few steps hoping that movement would help, before her abdomen cramped again. She gripped the metal stand, a strangled cry escaping her mouth, her hand flying to her cramping abdomen. Jonny stood up and came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her body. She leant in to him, allowing his body to take her weight. She massaged her abdomen gently, wishing she had the painkillers.

"Hold me" she whispered against his body, tears stinging her eyes. He obliged her, enveloping her body in his arms, feeling her melt against him. Against his body he could feel her shuddering as she tried to ride out the pain that was obviously splitting her in two. He felt her relax the moment it passed.

"How long has this been going on Jac?" he asked, quietly. His voice filled with concern for her. He remembered the pain she'd been in before, she blamed her period then and he'd stupidly accepted it. He'd stupidly listened to her. He should have known it was more.

"A few weeks" she murmured, wondering how much he remembered. The pain was a cruel reminder of what she'd lost. She pressed closer in to his body. She felt safe in his arms. She wished she could stay there forever, just the two of them. She couldn't help but think things would be better than way; if it was just the two of them. There would be no prying eyes, no whispering in the corridors as they passed no hospital gossip. Just the two of them in a little bubble.

"and is it getting worse?" he asked trying to get a hold of the situation. He knew Jac. He knew she wouldn't admit there was a problem; that she'd probably let things get worse without seeking help. He worried because he knew her health could be fragile with her kidney. She shook her head against him.

"You don't need to worry" she whispered, turning her head in to his chest. She didn't like the idea of him worrying about her, he wasn't supposed to worry about her; not now. "I know what this is" she spoke quietly in to his t-shirt. She didn't even know if her words would be audible to him. He looked down at the top of her head.

"Don't tell me; period pains" he stated, repeating the reason she had given him. The reason she had hoped would be reality. Period pains was something she could have dealt with, period pains didn't take away the possibility of a family. She pulled away from him and little and shook her head, tears still falling from her eyes.

"endometriosis" she whispered. Speaking the word for the first time. It had been plaguing her thoughts and dreams for weeks but for the first time she spoke the word aloud. She felt herself collapse back against him, her body wracked with sobs.


	5. Not Broken, Just Bent

**Thank you to anybody reading this and for any reviews - I love reading them :) **

Her body shudders, jerking with each sob that escapes her lips. How long had she been holding this inside he wonders, while trying to be strong for her, to hold her upright. His body feels cold and his mind reels. The word seems to be hanging in the air. Glistening and dancing before his eyes, he can almost see her tears dripping from the letters.

He wraps his arms around her, allowing her body to melt in to him, to become a part of him, her tears soaking in to the material of his uniform. He wonders if they had ever truly been this close before, connected in such a way as this? So much of their relationship had been physical, built on stolen moments and hiding away. The talking; the sharing of histories and hopes had been limited. Snatched pieces of information in the darkness of a bedroom, not the open hearted talking that he'd always assumed a relationship would involve.

He feels her calm a little. Her sobs slowing and become less intense as they are ripped from her throat. He feels her stiffen slightly against him, her body changing, hardening. He tries to hold her tighter to him, not wanting to lose the connection, the closeness but he can feel her pulling away; emotionally if not yet physically.

She closes her eyes against him. Trying to force herself to be strong, trying to convince herself that what just happened was an emotional blip and not some sort of emotional connection to the thief. She can feel the twist and tug at her heartstrings. She can feel him pulling at them; playing at being the puppeteer when in reality that role should be hers.

It doesn't seem fair to her, that he can play with her emotions – that he can force her to feel, when she wants nothing more than numbness. She wishes the word could slip back inside of her, unspoken. Speaking it makes it more real, more frightening. It makes her feel emptier than before. He makes her feel emptier.

She pulls away from him, her body fighting against the movement. The magnetic pull towards his body is strong, but she fights against it. She doesn't want to feel. She wants to block the emotions. Force them back in to the little box, hidden away deep within her. Hers and hers alone.

The circle breaks and his arms release her. He watches as she moves away from him, stepping backwards. Her face is pale and lined with tears, but her lips are set and her eyes hard – a contradiction.

He doesn't know what to say to her. He wants to say something, but he doesn't know the right words. Before his eyes, he can see her armour rising. He can see the barriers encircling her, blocking him from her. Pulling her further away.

In front of him, he sees the little girl learning to harden herself. The child disappearing, a miniature adult in her place. He can see a heart freezing hard, trying to protect her from hurt but causing her more. A heart desperate to be wanted and loved, but forced not to feel. He watches her eyes, as the little voice in her head tries to convince her of lies and half-truths. The little voice that tells her, she's unlovable and in turn she cannot love, the little voice that tells her she's unwanted and therefore cannot want, the little voice that turns her to ice and stone.

He can almost hear that little voice in his own head. The taunts that torment her, the words she has come to accept as the truth. The little voice at times female but at times male. It is the male voice that scares him, the little voice develops Scottish undertones and he hears words he has spoken. He has become to the little voice. One of a number of little voices.

Standing in front of him, he sees her. Frail but strong, fragile but tough, confident yet scared. He sees a child in the body of an adult, and an adult in the body of a child. He sees the parts that make her up. Fragments of a whole – little shards of a person slowly breaking under the weight of its defences, it's armour.

But he knows that she isn't broken. He knows that nobody is so inherently broken that they cannot be fixed. He can see the whole bending and bowing as the shards splinter and split. But they do not break. She does not break.

The word sparkles in the air before him, a diagnosis. Another splinter. Another chink. But she is not broken.


	6. It's in the Stars

**Thank you again for any reviews and to anyone reading this :)**

She looks at him, her back ramrod straight pushed up against the cold metal of one of the stands. She watches him, the way his eyes were trained on her, the way his fingers move as his thoughts race around his head. He was analysing. His thoughts shifting and changing with each passing second. He was studying her, and it made her uncomfortable. He already knew the secret which was battering her, she didn't want him knowing more. He already knew too much.

She could see words bubbling on his lips, the way they started to move as if he'd finally settled on what he wanted to say before they stilled. The words left unspoken. There was a nervous energy in his mannerisms, a boyishness. It was something she'd once seen as somewhat charming.

"I'm sorry?" he murmured, his voice shook, rising at the end almost as if forming a question. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly to the side. She didn't know why he was apologising, not really. It was too late for him to apologise for the words he'd said. The damage was already done. The scars formed. If it was for her diagnosis, she definitely didn't want it. She didn't want people to be sorry for her. To be sorry for what she'd lost, for the label she'd acquired, for the pain she felt. It wasn't their place to be sorry. Surely if anyone should be sorry, it was her. She should be sorry for herself, it was her pain, her loss, her label. She didn't want pity or sympathy. That made it all the worse.

"Why?" She asked, her tone harsh. Probably harsher than she had intended it to be, but the emotional pain made her tongue acidic. If she could hurt others, she wondered, would it lessen her own pain; make it easier to bear knowing that others were also suffering?

"For hurting you" he whispered, looking down at his feet. He couldn't bear to look at her; he couldn't bear to see the pain in her face or to allow her to see the pain in his. "For not understanding, for not knowing" he added.

"It's done now" she whispered, trying to sound stronger than she felt. Trying to sound convincing, though she wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him or her. She knew that nothing could be taken back. She couldn't take back the words she'd shouted at him outside of the theatre, the words that had pushed him too far. She couldn't remove his words from her head. Nothing could change the past.

"If I'd have known" he looked up at her. She could see the pain in his eyes. Pain from hurting her, pain from the way she'd hurt him. He'd been masking it, just as she had. The laughing with Mo, the larking around, the acting as if everything was normal had been pretend. She could see that now. She could see that he'd been hurting, but his hurt was lesser. He still had his friend, and his future.

"Would it have made any difference?" She swallowed hard, her eyes locking on his. She dug her heel harder in to the sole of her shoe, trying to force herself to stand strong. She breathed, slowly and steadily trying to calm herself, trying to make this easier. "If you'd have known would you not have walked away? Would you not have left me for a woman who could give you a future as your wife and mother of your children, a woman who'd love you unconditionally without judging you on your career and status, a woman able to love you regardless, able to love your children, able to feel and want? Imagine that woman, she'll give you the bonny curled headed tot in a buggy and you'll live in a cottage with roses around the door and you'll probably have a golden retriever so Jonny why would you stay with me – when you could have love rather than the fear of being pushed until you snap, of knowing the woman you're with is corrupt and broken and who you know can never truly open up to you? Why would you want that?" She spoke quickly barely drawing breath until she felt drained. Her body shook and she tried to right herself. She looked at him, the way his face twisted and changed as he tried to process her words.

"Because" he whispered, his mind whirling, trying to picture the life she'd painted for him. But in his head, he was standing on the porch of a house, the night sky glittering with stars as his determined red headed toddler walked unsteadily towards him while his flame haired wife pushed the buggy exasperated. The image seemed perfect, but as her diagnosis stumbled in to his head, he watched as the buggy and toddler blew away and still his wife walked towards him and still the stars sparkled. He sighed, even without the buggy and the baby, that life seemed pretty perfect.


	7. Written in the Scars

**Thank you to anyone reading this - and I would very grateful if anyone reading leaves me song suggestions as well as reviews as I'm trying to write a sequel to this but struggling to find a title / song lyrics for chapters. I'm pretty open to anything but prefer 'hopeful' songs :D **

"Because what Jonny?" She whispered, waiting for the inevitable pain and hurt that was going to result from this. She knew that no good could come of this. All she'd wanted was a few moments of peace and quiet. Now she was feeling even more drained than before.

She wasn't sure how long she could do this; stand so close to him, listening to him, knowing that each minute that passed broke her that little more. She could feel it. She could feel the ache in her heart. Each beat hurt her. Each heartbreak, each moment of hurt, each and every person who'd ever harmed her seemed all that much closer. Each one pressing down on her, making it harder to breath.

"Don't you know?" He asked, watching her trying to gage her reaction. He could feel his love for her so acutely that he didn't know how she couldn't see it. If his heart made his feelings any more obvious, it would be leaping from his chest in the style of a cartoon. Did she not realise how much of part of him was, how much of his heart she owned?

"I don't know" She mumbled, her words confused and unsure. Did she know his feelings? She could see the love, the want in his eyes. But she didn't trust it. Her heart was scarred, battered and bruised and she wasn't sure that she could handle anything more.

"Why not?" He retorted, his eyes soft and sweet. He looked innocent and sincere. She couldn't see any malice in him, anything that indicated that this would go wrong; that she'd end up hurt and in pain. But he was an actor. He'd hidden his own pain from her. He'd shouted those words at her, even though he claimed they weren't his true feelings; at the time it had felt like they were. If those moments were an act, how could she trust that this wasn't?

"I've been hurt before" she whispered, looking away from him. Her gaze studying the floor as if it was much more interesting than it really was. She didn't want to let him in, but she couldn't help herself. He was controlling her heart and her head wasn't in the right place to fight against it. "I'm hurting now" her voice was barely audible as she spoke the words. Her truth. She couldn't remember when she hadn't been hurting. There had been moments with him, wrapped safe in his arms when the pain had been lessened but it never left entirely.

"I won't hurt you" He whispered, his words were strong and convincing and she looked up at him. She wanted to believe him. The realisation hit her hard and stole her breath. She wanted to trust him. She'd already trusted him enough to bare a part of herself to him. Part of her wished she could surrender the rest. To surrender to his promise.

"You already have Jonny" she murmured. She sounded scared and unsure of herself. He nodded in agreement. He knew he'd hurt her, he could see it in her eyes. The scars that already existed, the ones he'd caused, the ones he'd deepened and the others that he hoped never to worsen. He reached out and gently took her hand in his.

"I love you Jac" he stated, his voice strong and sure. He squeezed her hand, the skin cold in his grasp. She didn't pull away from him, though part of her wanted to. She waited, frozen, unsure. She wanted to believe him. To hear those words over and over. To know they were truly meant for her and only her, to know that his heart was hers, just like hers was his. "We're alike you and me. We both have our battle wounds – some caused by each other and some much older. But I love you, I love each and every part of you and if, we are destined to just be the two of us then so be it. Because as long as I have you, my life will be perfect Jac. Me and You – The J Team" he smiled, and in spite of herself she found herself smiling in response.


	8. Learn to Love Again

**Thank you to everyone who has read this and also to those who have reviewed. This is the last part of Just Give Me A Reason although I am writing a sort of sequel to it :) **

Loving him was frightening. But he seemed sincere, the fear she had in him running at an imperfect future seemed not to matter. The future, it seemed, would be perfect; provided they were together.

"You aren't scared?" She whispered, stepping towards him. His arm bending as she did, her hand still grasped within his. She had never looked more beautiful to him than in that moment. Her head bowed slightly, her eyes slightly scared but glistening with hope – an emotion he'd never seen their before. She looked up at him with hooded eyes and he smiled at her.

"Of losing you? Yes" he whispered, a hint of a smile in his words. He stepped closer to her, the gap between them closing. "Of loving you? Never" he added, and with a gentleness he placed a kiss on her pale forehead, on the point where earlier her headache had been building. She closed the gap between them resting her head on his chest.

"I'm scared of both" she admitted, talking in to the material of his top. She felt his arms come around her, encircling her. He was strong and safe. She felt herself relax against him, as if her fears were slipping in to his body just as her form melted against his.

"You have no reason to be scared" he whispered in to the top of her head, feeling the weight of her body against his. The moment felt almost perfect. He breathed in the scent of her, wishing for it to be the scent that filled his nose every morning on waking up and the last thing he smelt upon falling asleep. He wished for this closeness to be their norm.

"It's all I've ever known" she whispered back, she tilted her head back to look up at him. She wished she could be like him, filled with love and longing and the knowledge that it wasn't something to be feared. But for the first time, in a long time, she thought that perhaps she could learn, that she could change and grow.

"We'll take it slowly Jac, your pace" He smiled down at her. She could see in his eyes, the future he wanted. The two of them living together, waking up every morning in each others arms and falling asleep in a warm embrace; safe and secure filled with love. It scared her, but part of her was hoping for it too. A part of her was warming to his dream.

"And babies and buggies you can live without that?" she was scared by that too, that he'd regret his decision to stay with her, to lose the chance of a legacy – a little Jonny Mac to carry on his name. A part of her ached at the idea of a miniature version of him, a dream she'd tried to ignore for a long time.

"As long as I've got you Jac" he responded. Was he sad at the idea of potentially not having a miniature version of her in his life? There was a tugging in his chest but love meant having to make little sacrifices and what was the point of having a child with a women who he didn't truly love? "Maybe one day we'll find a way if that's what we want, and if not, we have each other. Families come in lots of different shapes and sizes"

"I love you" She whispered, words soft but certain. She kissed him gently on the lips, a promise. A promise of trying, of learning, of growing. A promise to be herself with him and to find a way to love as he did.

"And I love you too" he responded, matching her kiss. His own promise. To protect her from herself and of not hurting her, a promise of love and togetherness regardless of what their future held.

As he held her in his arms, he heard the door click open and with a hint of regret, light filled the supply closet breaking the moment together. Looking up at him, she gave him the briefest of smiles. The smile that told him that this wasn't the end, this was the beginning. That the journey may be slow but that they'd get there. The smile told him that she loved him and looking up, he saw the softest of smiles on Mo Effanga's face. She nodded and stepped backwards closing the door over but not quite letting it shut.

"You ready to face the world?" she whispered, taking hold of his hand and guiding him towards the door. The journey she knew would be slow, and at times hard, but taking that first step she knew she could do it because she felt the reassuring squeeze of his hand on hers. She had his strength and his love and that, for now, was what she needed in order to learn.

_If you placed a stethoscope to my chest, I wonder what you'd hear. The slow, steady beat of my heart I'd warrant. A heart that has taken knocks and scraps, that has gone through many battles – some won, some lost. A heart that I once considered lost, that I thought of as broken. My heart is scarred – those scars no matter what will remain there. Those scars are my story. The story of my loves, my losses and my hurts. Nestled within the grooves of those scars, is the man I love. The scars he created, the scars he deepened and the scars he has helped to heal. He can't fix them, but slowly, very slowly he has begun to heal them. To make them hurt that little bit less, to make them appear less red and angry, to cause them to fade to distant memories. _

_If you were to listen to my heart, it may sound slower than you'd expect. It's beat sometimes a little hesitant, less strong than others. In his arms, my heart has slowly begun to feel safe and secure. That love isn't something to be feared, nor pushed away. In the safety of his arms, my heart has begun to learn to love again. _

_It's a slow journey. Sometimes my heart is scared, sometimes it wants to push him away and to hide. To not have to feel the emotions that can cause it to break. But he's there to remind me, that I am worthy of love; of his love. Sometimes my heart forgets. It listens to the little voice in the back of my mind. But the voice is quieter in his presence; less able to make itself known. Perhaps he is simply louder or maybe I've learned to stop listen. Except in those quiet moments, the moments of weakness. _

_I thought he was a thief; this man who stole my heart while I was willing. It turns out he was returning it to me. Freeing it from the shackles of its prison within my chest wall; the prison I'd created. This thief was perhaps the worst criminal of all because he did not fear getting caught; his fear was not getting caught. The thief returned what he stole, and gave me something extra with it. He gave me his love, unconditional and unrestrained. _

_In return, my heart is learning to give him the same in return. _


End file.
